


building us back up

by vannral



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Apologies, Comfort/Angst, Friendship, M/M, Making Up, Panic Attacks, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 23:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14199597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannral/pseuds/vannral
Summary: Caleb's anxious and rattled. They still haven't talked about what happened in Zadash, in that one house.





	building us back up

Caleb’s hands are trembling. He can’t stop it, he _can’t_ stop shaking - his teeth rattle, his lungs expand and _stutter,_ his breathing grows harsh and shallow.

Too much. _Too much happening at once,_ he can’t focus, everything has unravelled, and behind it, _it hurts._

_I knew it. I knew it I shouldn’t trust, o - or even begin to hope, but I did and I’m -_

He remembers the glow of the falchion. The scent of salt water.

How it presses on his throat.

**_Leave no trace. Put it back._ **

**_Put it down - I will fuckin’ leave both of you here; we’re either a team or you’re workin’ for yourselves. Decide._ **

Cold, deep voice. No hesitation. _None at all._

The burning, painful sensation in Caleb’s chest claws deeper, becomes sharper, and now he dimly realizes he’s having a full-blown panic attack. It tears at his lungs, he can’t stop, _he can’t breathe -_ tears stream down his face in fury and in hurt and _in betrayal -_

The whole  thing went down, it went down, it _went to shit,_ what did it matter if he took the box -

Thoughts scatter in his skull, grow fuzzy and _unclear._

_I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I’m doing._ He buries his head into his hands. _Did I - was it really that bad? Am I that bad of a person?_

_(yes,_ whispers a nasty voice in his head. _you are even worse.)_

For all that kindness, soft gazes, _gentle words,_ it never really was anything. _Anything at all._

Caleb feels silly, stupid and so painfully lonely. _Well,_ he thinks hysterically, _yeah, well, are you really surprised? Only got yourself to blame, isn’t it? Greedy. Once again being too curious, too eager to touch, to discover._

Hot tears stream down his face. _Stupid, stupid stupid._

_...and so impossibly sorry._

He feels like everything has been torn down. There’s nothing left. They don’t trust him - even the little bit that was left is gone.

_Hypocritical of you, now isn’t it? You don’t trust them. You didn’t trust them._

_I was starting to!_ Caleb shrieks back at the voice. _I was - I was trying -_

And he’d been. So desperately. _Fjord_ -

It _hurts._

+

The camp’s quiet.

They are all too wired up on adrenaline, exhausted and bruised, trying to comprehend what went down in Zadash.

Caleb feels carved open. _Hollow._

_I don’t deserve this._ He knows it. He doesn’t deserve being here. They should’ve left him in that building. _I don’t deserve anything._

     “Caleb?” a timid voice asks somewhere near. The smoke from the fire causes him to blink sluggishly.

( _Not Nott, it’s odd, she’s been acting pretty strange since Zadash, too)_

It’s Jester.

Good, kind Jester who sees _good_ things in the world; Jester who is kind, selfless and _gentle_ in a way Caleb wishes he could be.

But he isn’t.

     “Ja? Hi.”

She chews on her bottom lip nervously, gathers her skirts and sits beside him. “Are you okay?”

     “Ja, fine.”  

     “Don’t lie to me,” Jester says quietly. “It’s not nice.”

     “I’m sorry.”

She saw what happened, back at the house.

Shame curls inside Caleb, hot and sour. “How can I help you?” he asks, his voice tired.

     “Nothing, I just... wanted to know if you’re okay. It was - it was pretty scary.”

     “Mmh.” He readies himself, decides to bite the bullet. “Why are you talking to me, Jester? You were there. You saw what happened.”

The fire flickers in her purple eyes. “I was. And I saw. But you are my friend. And things were... dicey. And then on _fire._ And then started exploding. I don’t know why you would ever want that kinda suspicious weird scroll, but...”

_But._

Caleb desperately wants to hear the  rest, but he _can’t,_ because he _knows_ he’s shitty and selfish and _awful,_ and yet this kind tiefling girl is still trying to be his friend even though he doesn’t deserve any of it.  

But even she can’t find a reason why he would want the scroll.

She hesitates. “Maybe talk to Fjord? He was pretty adamant to get you out of there. From the fire.”

     “I don’t see why he would care,” Caleb replies stiffly. “He was the first one to draw a sword on me.”

     “I know, I _know._ And it was bad. I’m sorry, but - it was so stressful, _please_ talk to him, fix this with him, please. He likes you, I know he does, s - so please patch things up? At least a little?”

_Likes you. Why would he ever like you? After what you’ve_ _done? After Fjord’s seen how ugly, how dark and desperate you are on the inside?_

Caleb clenches his jaw, his throat burning. “It doesn’t matter. He showed already what he thinks of me, as it is. I - of course, I could have handled the situation better, certainly, but I - “

What can he say? _How_ can he explain?

He looks away.

Jester reaches to grip his hand, giving it a strong squeeze. “Talk to him, _please,_ Caleb. I think he would like that.”

     “He has no reason to. Not anymore. I did not take the scroll, and I was unconscious. I did not die. There is nothing else he wants to do with me.”

     “You don’t know that! Stop being so stubborn, you are being so _stupid_ right now,” she argues, and there’s an angry furrow of her brows. “We’re a group, Caleb. We look out for each other. Just... just please, give it a shot?”

Caleb doesn’t believe in such things. As far as he’s concerned, Fjord has very blatantly shown him how much Caleb means _anything_ in this group, how much Caleb means to _him,_ and it twists inside him _._

Instinctively he looks up - and catches Fjord’s eye. It’s dark, completely blank. _Emotionless._ There’s absolutely _nothing_ there. Just - black and _cold._

It chills him to the very _bone,_ and he desperately tries to pretend how much it _doesn’t_ hurt. It does. There’s not even a way to pretend it doesn’t.

     “I’m sorry,” Caleb murmurs. “I’m sorry for causing - any tension in the group.”

     “Nooo, don’t do that, Caleb... it’s nice to have you here, this is just a hiccup! A disagreement, but just with, you know, with swords! It happens sometimes! Just talk things out? What’s the worst that could happen?”

_Everything._

_Everything could get ruined,_ Caleb would leave, Fjord would _hate_ him if he doesn’t already - _and after all this time, it would feel like a horrible loss, because despite everything, despite his own flaws and insecurities, he’s still so fond of these people._

Looking at Jester’s hopeful eyes, he knows she believes in a purely positive outcome and for a moment, he lets himself wish for one as well.

     “Maybe eventually,” he murmurs. “I do not think he wishes to speak to me right now.”

     “He always does, don’t be _stupid!”_

     “No, Jester. Please, just... not right now.”

Everything is still too cracked open.

+

Caleb thinks he’s having a breakdown of some sorts.

He can’t sleep, he can’t focus, his hands still haven’t stopped _trembling,_ and he can’t even hold a _goddamn dinner plate_ properly. Tears of frustration and _fury and everything_ stinging his eyes, he puts the plate down and hurries off, _to do anything else -_

_\- useless, stupid, greedy, selfish, how DARE YOU, PUT IT DOWN OR I WILL FUCKIN’ LEAVE YOU HERE -_

Caleb wants to scream.

Gasping for air, he buries his fingers into his hair and _gods, he feels like he’s going insane -_

     “Caleb.”

Instantly Caleb whips around, feeling all colour drain from his face. Fjord stands there, just by the edge of the clearing, his features shadowed.

     “What?” Caleb asks. “Oh, don’t worry, no suspicious scrolls here for me to take, you are very much _safe_ from me - “

Fjord’s ember eyes widen. “C’mon, that’s not what I - “

     “No? It’s exactly what happened! And I know I’m in the wrong here, I shouldn’t have done it, I _know_ that, but everything was going to shit nonetheless! It went to shit before we even got to the house! It was shady and strange magic and you _pulled your sword on me!”_

It pours out of him, painful and angry _and terrified._

Fjord stares at him, his eyes very wide and stunned. “ _Caleb - “_

     “You had every right to be wary, of course you had, but to - to pull the falchion out and point it at my throat?” Caleb’s tremors get worse. He feels like he’s splitting apart.

     “You didn’t listen to me - “

     “I would’ve if you had said something. I always do! You are calm and _rational.”_ Caleb laughs, and it’s ugly and _wet._ He looks away across a field and rubs his hands over his arms. “No, the fault is mine. I am stupid and of course untrustworthy as well.”

     “To be fair, you don’t trust anyone, you said so to me yourself,” Fjord points out, and now he sounds tired.

     “Yet I do not pull destructive magic like that on the group.”

Fjord doesn’t move.

Caleb is so tired. Exhaustion weighs heavily on his frame, and he just wants to wake _up._ He slumps down on the grass.

     “I am not saying you were wrong. You probably weren’t. The scroll was shifty and probably  in the box for a reason. I just wanted to examine it later, but - “

_You didn’t trust me, at all? It took so little to pull a sword on me?_

Caleb murmurs: “I just did not expect to be on the receiving end of the falchion.”

 Fjord is quiet for a moment. Then, he approaches him and sits beside him in the grass.

     “Caleb,” he says, his baritone deep and raw. “I panicked. I had no idea what else to do. We had to get out, leave no trace, that was the plan, and you were going for the scroll.”

     “You did not even hesitate.”

Fjord swallows. “Yeah. Probably didn’t,” he admits, and his voice _breaks._

Caleb closes his eyes tightly, draws another shuddering breath inside. “What are you going to do now? You do not trust me.”

     “Nah, ‘s not all gone, doesn’t work like that,” Fjord says quietly, his gaze flickering at Caleb. “Just... I mean, messin’ around with dangerous scrolls like that while we’re in a goddamn hurry, it ain’t the time to tempt fate. And I shouldn’t have pulled the sword on you, ‘n for that, I apologize. Caleb, I _am_ sorry. For hurtin’ you.”  

Caleb doesn’t answer. He presses his trembling hands against his stomach in a desperate attempt to ease it. Fjord takes notice and frowns.

     “Hey, you okay?”

     “Ja, I’m fine. How - how do we go from here?”

They look at each other. Bright, _bright blue_ against golden.

It still hurts, what’s happened is still _bleeding_ and painful, but they are _trying,_ slowly build from there.

     “Just talk to us,” Fjord says, and there’s a hint of vulnerability in his tone. “It doesn’t have to be anythin’ big. Everyone’s got ghosts, I get that. But we’re in this together, keep each other safe. Just don’t - don’t _lie_ to us. _Please?”_

Caleb stares back, despair twisting his guts.

     “I’m scared.” It comes out as a breathless whisper. “I’m scared of _this._ What it was. What happened. What _will_ happen.”

     “I know. It got pretty damn serious so fuckin’ fast. But we’re here. Stickin’ together,” Fjord says, but this time, it’s _gentle._

Caleb hesitates, and the whole truth burns on his tongue. He has to say something else, _just to fix at least some of the mess he’s made._

     “I’m sorry for what happened.”

Fjord’s hard-lined scowl softens, and his lips curl into a smile. “Me, too. I’m sorry for gettin’ all extreme on you. How do you wanna go from here on out?”

     “Just please don’t - don’t pull your sword at me like that again.” It’s out there, bare and _pleading._ He’s asking, he’s stupidly, _tentatively hopeful_ this will work out and it won’t end in _heartbreak, because he already toes the line -_

_\- for that one moment, in the house, he swears his heart broke_ under all that stress, adrenaline and anger.

     “Yeah, I’ll definitely try, absolutely.”  

     “What, no promises?”

Fjord grins, and this time, it’s crooked, little embarrassed. “Nah, shit can always happen. ‘n knowin’ us it’ll definitely happen. Plus what if you get possessed or somethin’?”

     “Okay, then how about this, a counter-offer; plan B, if that _does_ happen, tell Beau to hit me. With her staff, fists, I don’t care. At least I won’t get stabbed.”

Fjord _laughs,_ and for that, blissful moment, it feels normal.

They grin at each other - tired and worn, but still there. What’s happened has wounded them, just a little, but they are trying get over it.

Fjord raises his fist to Caleb -

\- and Caleb bumps it back with his own.

+ 

**Author's Note:**

> And waaaay later caleb gets to be on the receiving end of fjord’s other sword ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> no, this is me venting and trying to get what the fuck happened in the episode 12 because hoooly shit, what a wild ride. and i’m not taking sides, i’m just projecting a bit, amping up the drama and keeping my fingers crossed that they’ll talk and resolve things. and kiss. but i’ll take the talk, too. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
